Daddy's Girl
by The Red Celt
Summary: A series of little moments in the Vakarian household. Full of sweet, fluffy stuff.
1. Daddy's Girl

Shepard had been called off to help train new recruits for the Alliance for three weeks, which left Garrus playing the role of stay-at-home dad. Not that he minded in the least; he'd had little enough time to spend with Maya between working with the remaining refugees and the rebuilding efforts that were still going strong nearly seven years after the Reaper War ended. He and Shepard had decided, after a lot of deliberation, to find a human sperm donor who looked the way they thought he would if he'd been human, which resulted in a little girl who had her mother's hair and bird-like features, but had blue eyes like his. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her after she was born, and had taken on night-time duty for the first three months before he returned to work because Shepard needed the rest, but also because those quiet moments in the small hours of the morning spent rocking her back to sleep were something he treasured and looked forward to.

It was hard to believe she was in kindergarten already—five years old and already so smart. She had a way of speaking that made her sound older than her years and tended to be a happy, if soft-spoken, child. Which was why the call from her principal had come as such a surprise; she wouldn't give any details over the phone, just that there had been an incident and could he come as soon as possible?

The school, which had been remarkably unscathed, had at one time been populated entirely by humans but in the aftermath of the destruction of the mass relays, some of the soldiers who had fought in the war had stayed behind on Earth. Now, their children attended school together; the cultural differences were there, but not insurmountable, and it was good to see everyone working together and getting along. Shepard had truly changed the way the different species of the galaxy viewed each other, a legacy that would live on long after they were gone.

Garrus reached the school and got more than a few side-long glances from the teachers and outright stares from the children (at least they were honest in their gawking, he thought)—it wasn't every day they got to see the most recognizable turian in the galaxy, after all. He tried not to be intimidating, but a scarred and obviously battle-hardened man such as himself could hardly help it. Most of the kids in Maya's class knew him, though, and waved enthusiastically from the playground.

He made his way to the principal's office, the placard on the open door engraved with the words, "Dr. Carla Andrews, Ed.D."

"Ah, Mister Vakarian," Dr. Andrews said, rising from her seat to shake his hand. Before her desk were five chairs; three of them were occupied by a tall boy, maybe nine or ten years old and sporting a black eye, between his parents, and Maya sat to their left, her little legs kicking idly. She peered up at him as he sat down next to her and gave him a shy smile.

"Hi, daddy," she mumbled.

"Hey, punkin," he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

Dr. Andrews cleared her throat and, once she had everyone's attention, said, "I'm sorry we all had to meet like this, but we had an incident in the cafeteria today that needs to be addressed. One of our teachers saw Maya stand up on her chair and punch Liam in the face," she said, gesturing at the boy.

Liam's parents looked over at Maya with disapproval clear on their faces, and Garrus was shocked. "She wouldn't have just hit him unprovoked. Did anyone see if anything happened before that?"

Liam's mother scoffed. "If you're suggesting my son 'provoked' a little girl into hitting him . . ."

"Now, now, let's keep this civil," Dr. Andrews said. "To answer your question, Mister Vakarian, no one saw if anything happened beforehand, but I'm afraid our rules are clear—we have zero tolerance for violence of any sort and must, unfortunately, suspend Maya from school for one day."

Garrus shoved down all the angry retorts that bubbled up at the principal's words and instead turned to Maya. "Honey, why did you punch that boy?"

"He calls me names and knocks down my lunch."

"What kind of names does he call you?"

She looked down at her feet and her voice was quiet when she said, "Barefaced."

His hand clenched the arm of the chair so hard the wood creaked, and Dr. Andrews inhaled sharply. She looked nervous, and Garrus brought himself back under control. "Why didn't you say anything to me or mom?"

"I wanted to do it all by myself," she said, and his heart swelled with pride. She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and tears on her round cheeks. Garrus smoothed her hair out of her eyes and smiled, then turned back to the principal.

"What will you do about the boy?" he asked.

"No one saw him do anything to her," said Dr. Andrews, "and without proof, our hands are tied. I'm sorry." And to her credit, she really did look contrite.

Garrus sighed and stood up, taking Maya's tiny hand in his own. "I understand, and I'll talk to her about this."

"I appreciate your cooperation, Mister Vakarian."

As they were leaving, Liam's mother—who looked very offended—said, "I think Maya should apologize to my son."

"Why?" he asked, incredulously.

"_Why?_ She _punched_ him," the woman huffed.

"And now you know why. I think your son should apologize to my daughter for bullying her."

"My son wouldn't do anything like that. She must be lying."

Garrus growled through clenched teeth, "My daughter is _not_ a liar." At the woman's shocked expression, he calmed down just enough to say, "I can see where Liam gets it from, though. You might want to worry about your own parenting skills before you judge anyone else." He turned to Dr. Andrews, who was trying not to look so pleased that he had said exactly what was on her mind. "If there's anything I need to sign, you can send it home with Maya."

"I'll do that. Take care."

"You do the same."

He and Maya walked out to the car and she sat silently next to him as they made their way back to the house. After a minute or so, she asked, "Daddy, are you mad at me?"

"What? No, baby." He patted her hand and smiled. "I'm proud of you—you stood up for yourself. I wish you had told me about what was happening, though."

"I know."

"Hey, don't worry about it." He chucked her under the chin and she giggled. That sound never failed to make him melt; he was putty in her hands, and he was thankful she was too young to know how to exploit that yet. He'd have to watch himself when she got to be a teenager. "I've got a surprise for you when we get home."

* * *

Maya sat on the sink, her face serene and her eyes closed. Garrus was amazed that she'd managed to sit still for this long, but fifteen minutes later she was still patiently waiting for him to finish. He stood back a bit and, satisfied, said, "Okay, you can look now."

Maya turned around and stared in the mirror in awe, touching the blue paint on her face. Garrus leaned down and put his head next to hers and she traced the markings on his mandibles, then smiled widely.

"I look just like you!" she said and threw herself at him, slipping her arms around his neck. He picked her up and hugged her tight, and she planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

"So," he said, bouncing her around a little and making her giggle, "what do you want to do today?"

"Go get ice cream!" she yelled and her fist shot up in the air.

"Maybe after dinner. How about we take a picture of you and send it to mom? I bet she'd love to see how pretty your new face paint looks."

"'Kay!" She tried to wiggle out of his arms so he put her down and she sprinted off to the living room, and Garrus followed, smiling contentedly to himself.


	2. Braids and Barrettes

Shepard didn't notice her husband's new hobby until their daughter, Maya, came home from preschool one afternoon with a complicated multi-layer ponytail. When asked who did her hair, she got quiet and started fiddling with a strand of it before finally saying, "I don't know."

Then there was the extranet history. Garrus' had been less than diligent about his deleting habits lately, and she found several instructional videos with titles like, "Braiding: A tutorial for the three-fingered species" and "Modern human hairstyles." She also found that Garrus was active on a message board for turians who were into human "fringe" preening techniques. Reading through those posts was an enlightening experience—evidently, most salons on the Citadel were staffed exclusively by turians with a penchant for elaborate hairdos. Shepard had never noticed, not being one to have her hair done on a regular basis or, indeed, at all.

Then one afternoon as she was doing laundry, she turned out his pockets to find a small stash of elastic bands and multi-colored plastic barrettes. Every day, Maya would come home with a different hairdo—herringbone braids, French braids, interwoven twisted designs that looked more suited to prom night than a four-year-old on the playground.

One afternoon after Maya was done playing, Shepard took her out for cheeseburgers and as they ate, she carefully pressed her for information.

"Honey, does Daddy do your hair in the morning when he takes you to school?"

Maya nodded and took a sip of her juice. "Uh huh. He said I have pretty hair."

The mental image she got of Garrus, scarred and rugged soldier that he was, putting bows in his daughter's hair was the single most charming thing ever and she covered a smile with the back of her hand. "How long has he been doing that?"

"I dunno, for a million years." Maya still didn't really get the concept of time, yet. "Can I have a orange when we get home?"

"Sure, baby."

When Garrus walked in the door that evening, looking worn out around the edges after having to deal with the urban planning committee all day, Maya screamed, "Daddy!" and ran to him, launching herself into his arms.

"Hey, kiddo. Missed you." He spoke to her in turian, but Shepard hardly noticed the difference anymore; they had a "no translator" rule in the house. After a long discussion before she was born about which language Maya would learn, it was decided that they would teach her, and each other, both. While it was hard for him to pronounce English words and she didn't have sub-vocals or the ability to make clicking sounds while talking, they managed well enough. It got interesting when Maya's friends came over and went wide-eyed when she started speaking in turian.

Maya flung her arms around his neck and bonked her forehead against his for a split second before demanding to be put down so she could play with the dinosaur toys Uncle Wrex had recently sent. Shepard let him take off his boots before taking her turn with him, laying a nice, thorough kiss on his mouth. He was definitely a quick study on that front, and had taken to kissing like a natural after a few fumbling first attempts. All that seemed so long ago now.

"Whoa, what was that for?" he asked, slipping his arms around her waist.

"Have I told you lately that you're adorable?"

"I don't know if that's the word I'd use to describe me, but I'm okay with it." He ran his fingers through her hair, gently working out the knots that never seemed to go away.

"It is when I find these," and she brought out a yellow plastic barrette with a tiny bird on it, "in your pockets." Garrus groaned and rolled his eyes. "Care to explain to why I had to find out about your talents from our daughter instead of you?"

"I just . . . I mean, I didn't . . ." he stuttered, and a faint blue tinge started to creep up his neck. i_Oh, poor guy, I've gone and embarrassed him,/i_ she thought, and she would have been more contrite about it if he didn't look so goddamn cute when he was being awkward. "She just looks so gorgeous when her hair is out of her face."

And that was around the time Shepard's heart melted for him all over again and she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. After a moment, he did the same, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"You can do my hair if you want," she offered.

"Now you're just making fun of me."

"No, I mean it. If you want to, I don't mind."

He pulled back just far enough to see her face, to see if she was kidding. He'd wanted to ask if she would be all right with indulging his urge to preen his mate, but hadn't known how to go about it. "Yeah, I'd like that."

So that night, after supper had been eaten and bedtime for the little one had come and gone and the house was quiet again, Shepard sat on the floor in front of the couch, Garrus' knees on either side of her, while he separated her hair with clips and wove the thick red locks into loosely braided ropes. It was more soothing than she'd been expecting to have him do this, his talons expertly working through the tangles and tugging lightly on her scalp.

"You okay down there?" he asked as he put another bobby pin in her hair.

"Yeah. That feels really nice, Garrus."

"Glad you like it." He was really in his element now. Doing this was relaxing him as much as her.

"So when do I get to see it?"

"Just a minute." With one last clip, he leaned back to survey his work and nodded, satisfied. "Okay, you can look now."

She stood up and padded into the bathroom, and stared in awe at her reflection. About a dozen loops and whorls draped over each other in a lacework pattern on the back of her head, ending in a herringbone braid that fell to the middle of her shoulders. Shepard had never worn such a hairstyle before, and was shocked by how much more feminine it made her look. Garrus came in behind her and put his arms around her, interlacing his fingers with hers as she leaned back into his chest.

"So what do you think?"

"I love it. It's beautiful."

He smiled and nuzzled her neck, tentatively tasting her skin with the flat of his tongue. She closed her eyes and sighed, pushing back closer to his body. He chuckled, his breath warm on her skin.

"What do you say we go mess it up?" He started leading her back to the bedroom, and after a quick check to make sure Maya was asleep, closed the door behind them.


	3. What to Expect

She stared down at the little piece of plastic in her hands with wide eyes. Two lines—the instructions on the box were pretty clear as to what that meant. All the times they'd discussed this, daydreamed about it, nothing prepared her for the feeling of her future rushing at her like falling down a hole—she'd set herself on this path, and now there was no deviating from it until its inevitable conclusion. Not that she wanted to, but still; it was happening. Right now, there was a little person growing inside her.

She stood in front of the mirror and turned sideways with her hand on her lower belly, trying to picture herself round and full. The idea that another man she hadn't met was technically the biological father didn't matter now—that had been the sticking point for her at the beginning, but Garrus had convinced her that he really didn't mind, and he wanted to go through the whole process with her. This was their baby, and it (she? he? The speculation was making her giddy) would be beautiful.

"Jane?" Garrus called from the other side of the door, knocking lightly. "You okay? You've been in there for thirty minutes."

She winced; it had taken her a lot longer to work up to taking the test than she'd thought. "Yeah, I'm all right. Just, uh, give me a minute." She got her clothes situated and threw the test away, then opened the door and saw him leaning against the wall. He was about to make some jab at her, wondering if maybe she got lost and needed a nav point, but the look on her face stopped him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, on his way to high alert before she reached out to take his hand with a smile.

"Guess what, big guy?" She put his hand on her belly and covered it with hers. Comprehension slowly dawned on him and a look of utter awe came over his face. "In about nine months, you're gonna be a father."

He pulled her in close and laughed. They'd been trying for this for six months with endless doctor visits and attempts at in-vitro fertilization, but this was the first time it had taken hold. _A father_, he thought. _By the spirits, it's actually happening_. He was holding the mother of his child in his arms, the woman who actually wanted to raise a baby with him, and the thought filled him with such pride and a fierce protectiveness that had been typical of all new fathers since the dawn of time.

It seemed like such a strange place for the entire world to shift so inexorably, standing here on the polished wooden floor of their small apartment with the smell of the morning's coffee still hanging in the air. A moment ago, he'd been having breakfast and watching updates of the galaxy rebuilding itself in the aftermath of the Reaper War. A moment ago, there had been just the two of them. Now, with his fingers lightly tracing the familiar planes of her stomach that would soon begin to grow round, they were three. A family.

It was the best day of his life.

* * *

He'd thought he was prepared.

He'd read the books, watched the vids, and been horrified by the whole human live birth thing that was so vastly different from the way turian children were born. He'd never seen so much blood and pain come out of someone who wasn't about to die any minute. All of that convinced him that humans: a. should by all rights have been extinct by now and, b. Jane Shepard was a superhero. Hell, every human female who'd borne children deserved a pat on the back and a foot massage, as far as he was concerned. And there were some with _several_ kids. They had chosen to go through the entire process _more than once_, cementing in his mind the idea that humans were, to varying degrees, completely insane.

He exhibited this newfound respect by trying to make the whole process as easy as possible, even when she didn't make it easy on him. At all. She'd warned him about her hormones going haywire as the pregnancy progressed, and he'd scoffed at the time—he'd seen her in a raging temper before, and he thought he could handle it.

He would have laughed at his past self now, if he could.

He'd come home and noticed that the dishes that had been in the sink that morning were still there in the afternoon when he got back from picking up a few things from a friend of his. Now, that wasn't a big deal as far as he was concerned; they were just dishes, and would get done eventually. So, he'd been joking when he'd said:

"So, what _were_ you doing all day?" glancing pointedly (with a playful smirk, he would swear there was a smirk in there) at the full sink. The look she'd given him could have melted the paint off the wall, and he replayed the sentence in his head, trying to figure out how to rewind time and take it back before she went thermonuclear.

"What did I do? Well, let's see . . . I sat on a hot pad for an hour because my spine's felt like it's exploding for about two months now, I had to finally retire my shoes because my ankles are so goddamn swollen that I can't fit into them anymore, I threw a funeral for my abs . . . oh, and I grew a lung with my uterus. That sounds like a full day to me." She glared at him for a moment before her eyes softened all at once and she sighed, covering her face with her hand. "Jesus, I'm sorry Garrus. I'm just so _sick_ of being pregnant. I haven't been able to sleep for so long, and I hurt all over."

He put the bag he'd been carrying down and went up behind her, brushing her hair back before starting in on her shoulders, rubbing circles in the tightened muscles. She groaned in pleasure and her head fell forward limply.

"It's almost over. Only one more month to go."

"Ugh, it's too long. I'm tired of sleeping on the recliner; I miss the bed." She'd taken to sleeping in the recliner in the living room since nearly any other position resulted in crippling back pain the next day.

"That reminds me, I got something for you." He retrieved the bag and held it out to her, and she took out the large box within. When she saw what it was, her eyes went all misty and she bit her lip.

"You got me a body pillow?"

"Yeah. Supposedly, it's made specifically for pregnant women—see, it's shaped like a giant U and it's got that memory foam stuff in it."

She set the box on the floor and carefully stood up, her protruding belly preceding her, and held her arms out to him for a hug, which he gave with a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry I've been such a huge bitch lately."

"Hey, don't worry about it. It's not so bad." It really wasn't, but she had gotten quite unpredictable. Like, Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde unpredictable. "Think you'll be able to come to bed tonight?"

"I think so. Especially if you continue that massage." She relaxed against him as much as she could with a baby in the way. His shape seemed made for it, though, the way he tapered so much toward the middle. She was pressed against him with her cheek on his chest when he felt something slide against his stomach. He didn't think much of it until it happened again and he looked down to see a tiny rounded indentation push out against her shirt.

"Oh my . . . Spirits, is that normal?" He watched in mild alarm as the baby moved again, but Jane just laughed and nodded.

"Yes, it's normal. She's been really active today; I think she's turning." She lifted up her shirt partway and this time he could see her skin move and stretch with the movement of their daughter. He framed her belly with his hands and knelt down in front of her, then looked up at her self-consciously.

"Do you mind . . . can you turn off your translator for a minute?" he asked. Jane raised an eyebrow in askance, but whatever he had on his mind, it wasn't something he could readily explain. She did as he asked, and he turned his attention back to her belly. He touched his forehead to her and started to speak—at least, she thought he was speaking. She understood a little turian, but there weren't many words in what he was saying. He hummed, clicked, and trilled softly, speaking to his unborn daughter the way he would if she'd been turian, and the baby went still, as though she was listening.

The tenderness he displayed around her was something she'd loved about him from the beginning. Like her, he was all business and could make the hard decisions right along with her. Out on missions, he'd been a stern, immovable rock at her six, always there to back her up but never afraid to speak his mind. But when they were alone together, that all got pushed to the back burner in favor of murmured words and gentle touches, his hardened exterior completely at odds with the soft spot in his heart he reserved for her. Now, to see that softness directed at the baby had her falling in love with him all over again.

When he went quiet again and she'd turned her translator back on, Jane stroked his fringe affectionately and said, "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

He chuckled and said, "Not today you haven't, but I could always stand to hear it more often."

"You're going to be a great dad, you know."

He stood up and kissed her, one hand still rubbing her side. "I hope so. I've read a little about human children—"

"A little? You probably know more about it than I do at this point."

He gave her a look before continuing, "—and your people start off life so frail and helpless. I . . . I can't help but think I'm going to screw up at some point."

Jane stroked his face and kissed him again. "You'll do fine. You already love her, and that's all you need to start." She backed out of his arms and picked up the box containing the holy grail of pillows. "Now, let's go see if this thing is as awesome as it looks."

"Seconded. Naptime is severely underrated."

As it turned out, the pillow was amazing, and they didn't get a lot of sleeping done that afternoon as she thanked him for it as enthusiastically as she was able.


	4. Curiosity

_AN-I'm keeping the K+ rating, but there's a little mild language in this chapter._

* * *

"How's she doing?" Garrus asked, peeking in the door. He'd just come back from a run to the store to pick up some medication for Maya, who had the flu. According to Shepard, it wasn't serious (although it looked pretty serious from Garrus' perspective) but their daughter had been having a rough day, to put it mildly.

"Her fever's up to 102 and she can't keep anything down." Shepard started to take the bag of meds, but Garrus shook his head.

"You've been up all night."

"So have you."

"I don't need as much sleep as you do." She started to protest, but it was cut off by a yawn and she glared at him like it was his fault her body chose that moment to reveal just how tired she was. "Go get some rest, I promise I'll wake you if she gets any worse."

"It's okay, mom, go to sleep," Maya croaked from the darkness of her room and Garrus raised his browplate as if to say _See? Told you_. Shepard nodded, told Maya goodnight, gave him a list of instructions that basically boiled down to _Don't burn the house down_ and reluctantly padded off to the bathroom. Garrus entered the room and sat on the bed next to his daughter, rubbing circles on her back.

"Hey, kiddo, how're you holding up?"

"I feel like shi—crap." She cracked an eyelid and looked up at him exhaustedly, but she still had the grace to be embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Hey, you're almost sixteen. It's not like I thought you didn't know that word." It was just one more sign that his little girl was growing up, though. "Come on, sit up. I've got something for you." She hauled herself upright and leaned on his shoulder, groaning. Between the fever, the headaches, generally feeling like hot garbage, and not having eaten anything more exciting than crackers and apple juice for the past sixteen hours, the poor kid was having a hard time holding her head up straight.

He held the little dosage cup up to the light filtering in from the hall and measured out the purple liquid that promised a little relief, and handed it to Maya. She sat there staring at it for a second, and he recognized that look on her face just in time to hand her the bucket that had been parked beside her all night. Garrus held her hair and rubbed her back until she was done, then took the bucket back.

"Sorry, dad. This can't be fun for you."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be." She gave him a look, that look patented by teenagers all over the universe that said, _You're so full of crap your eyes are turning brown_. "No, really."

"You'd rather be here watching me puke than be on, say, a sandy beach somewhere?" She took her medicine and washed it down with the glass of water on her nightstand. "Ugh, that stuff tastes like varren snot."

"I really have to stop leaving you and your mother alone together if she's gonna teach you to talk like that." Maya chuckled weakly and didn't resist at all when Garrus had her lay back down. He brushed a few stray locks of sweaty hair from her forehead and wiped her hot skin with a wet washcloth. Hopefully the medication would help her sleep and break the fever that was burning her up.

Her eyes were closed and she was half out of it when she said, "You didn't answer me."

Garrus sighed and straightened her blankets while he thought about what he was going to say. "Even if you were throwing up on _me_, I'd still want to be here until you felt better. I'm your father, Maya, and I love you."

She was quiet and he would have thought she'd fallen asleep but for the frown that creased her forehead. When she opened her eyes, he saw them shimmering with tears. "Dad, I wanted to ask you . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Well, last time I checked, I don't have any turian DNA." She blinked, and the tears rolled down her face. "I know this isn't the best time to ask, but I'm just loopy enough to finally get this out, I think."

Garrus could tell where this was going. It was a conversation he'd hoped to avoid all together, but had been preparing for ever since they'd first talked about this when she was four.

"Do you know who . . . um . . . donated the sperm that you guys used to make me?"

He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "Your mom and I didn't ask, because it didn't matter at the time. You were going to be ours, and whoever happened to provide the other half of your DNA wasn't going to be in the picture. I think there are still records of it, though, if you really want to know." Maya looked like she wanted to take it all back, and Garrus wondered how much of what he was feeling was showing on his face right now. "You don't have to decide right away. Think about it, and let me know what you want to do."

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," she said, and her voice was thick with tears. The flu was making her more emotional than usual. Garrus leaned down to hug her and her smooth arms wrapped around his neck, just like they had when she was small, and he held her close, remembering the girl she was and so, so proud of the woman she was becoming, even if it meant she was slowly slipping away into adulthood.

"You didn't, baby, don't worry about that. If this is something you want, I'll help you, no matter what, okay?"

"Okay." She sniffled and let him go, and laughed a little. "Sorry, I got you all wet."

"Like I said, no place I'd rather be." He got up to leave so she could sleep and heard her call him just before the door closed.

"I love you, daddy."

He smiled at her and said, "Love you too, kiddo. Now get some sleep."

"'Kay."

Later on that morning, once he'd double-checked the time difference, he called his father, ostensibly just to talk. He'd started asking after his mother and sister, but within a few minutes, the elder Vakarian figured out that there was something else on Garrus' mind. As much as he'd feared what his father would think of having a human granddaughter, Pelenaeus had only ever treated Maya as family. Adding her to the family had softened his attitude toward Shepard as well, whom he had never really forgiven for dragging his son off on multiple suicide missions, regardless of the outcome.

"So, are you going to tell me why you really called, or do I need to brow-beat it out of you?" That was Pelenaeus all over, gruff and to-the-point.

He sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter in the pre-dawn dark. "Maya's asking about her real father."

"What the hell are you talking about? You're her real father."

"I mean the sperm donor. She's talking about wanting to find out about him."

"That's just natural curiosity," he scoffed. Garrus could practically hear him waving the whole thing off. "You were there for her all her life. You raised her, and did a damned good job of it, too. Let her figure it out, and don't worry about it."

"I know, it's just . . . hard to hear, is all." He gripped the counter and shook his head. "It's stupid to worry about this, but I can't help it. What if she wants to meet him? What then?"

"Then you figure out how to do that, Garrus. You reach down into your guts and do it for your daughter, because that's what she needs you to do." He was quiet for a beat, then asked, "Do you want me to talk to her?"

"Not yet, I don't want her to think I'm bothered by this. She's worried about hurting me."

"That's a good kid you've got there, son."

Garrus smiled in spite of himself. "Don't I know it. Thanks, dad. That . . . it means a lot to hear you say that."

"Don't worry about this too much. You're her real father, and she knows it."

"Yeah. I'll talk to you again soon."

"Looking forward to it." He hung up without saying goodbye, something the both of them picked up in C-Sec, another lifetime ago. After one last check through the house to make sure everything was locked up, he went to bed. Shepard hummed in her sleep when he slid in beside her and she pulled his arm around her before drifting off again. It took only a little while longer for him to fall into a troubled sleep.

He didn't wake up until early afternoon, and he stumbled out into the living room in just a pair of pants to the sound of the television and the coffee maker running. "Hey, dad," Maya said from the couch. "I heard you get up so I started your kava for you."

"Thanks, hon. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, my fever broke last night. I'm back down to 99 degrees."

"Glad to hear it." He poured a steaming cup for himself and blew on it while the last of his grogginess shuffled off his shoulders, and sat down beside her. She leaned against him and let him kiss her hair, and he thought he smelled the blue paint he used on his markings. He tilted her head up and saw that she had donned the Vakarian clan tattoos this morning, something she hadn't done in a while. She smiled shyly and tried to shrug it off.

"It just seemed like a good day to put them on again, you know?"

Garrus wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Yeah."

After a long minute, she said, "Hey dad, about what I said last night . . . I think I changed my mind."

"You sure?"

"Mmm-hmm. You were right, that other guy doesn't matter. He might have contributed to my genes, but he's not my dad. That dubious honor goes to you." She grinned up at him and saw his wife as she'd been when he'd first met her all those years ago in his daughter's face. It was enough to put a lump in his throat and he mussed her hair to get her laughing. "Daa-aad!" she complained, ducking out from under his hand. "Now you have to fix it."

"You want me to braid it for you?"

"Yeah, okay." She turned around so her back was to him and handed him a hairbrush from the coffee table. "You know, the other kids at school don't believe me when I tell them you've been doing my hair for me since I was in preschool."

"Maybe you should make a video or something."

"Big bad turian bad-ass—uh, bad-boy—like you? Your reputation would never survive."

"I'm going to have to talk to your mother about your language, young lady."

"Hey, you say worse in the car when she drives."

Garrus shuddered in mock-horror and she laughed. "Don't remind me." He wondered how much longer she'd let him do this. After all, she'd be going to college before they knew it, making new friends, getting a job, buying a house, building a future. It made him more nostalgic than usual, and when he was finished with her hair she turned and smiled at him, and for a moment she was six years old again. She immediately shot off the couch to go look at herself, just as she'd always done when she was small and needed to stand on the toilet to see in the mirror, and he was left sitting on the couch, thinking back on what his father had said and knew it to be true.

He laughed out loud and Maya leaned out into the hallway to see what was going on, then rolled her eyes at her crazy father. He probably wouldn't have been able to explain what was so funny anyway; that after all these years of contention, he'd finally agreed with his dad about something.


End file.
